


Falling

by Hollowgayle



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt, minor mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18699352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollowgayle/pseuds/Hollowgayle
Summary: They’ll save each other. Again, and again, and again. It’s a dance that’s destined to repeat.Prompt: Back at the Horde, before Adora left, Adora protects Catra in a training exercise and Catra returns the favor.





	Falling

 

“She’ll be here. I  _ promise _ she’ll be here.”

Adora’s words are as firm as they always are. Catra can only hear them vaguely, bouncing off the metal walls of the air duct where she lurks, and fluffy, tufted ears flick in the direction of the sound as she peers down at her fellow cadets from far, far above. She had woken up late, not for lack of effort by Adora to wake her - And she doesn’t blame her friend for fleeing from the barracks to be on time for roll. There are worse things than sleeping late, after all, like things that happen to cadets who are late to training exercises.

Which is what she would be considered, if she had any intention of showing up the  _ right _ way.

By the time she’s done, there will be plenty of proof she’d been present, at the exercise at least. And that was what mattered – Or so she hopes. The duct creaks as she slinks along, tail brushing the top of the claustrophobic steel chute.

“Today, you will be infiltrating the rebel outpost of Thaymor. Your objective is to neutralize the insurgents within, and claim the outpost for the horde. This is a torch and burn op, cadets–”

The air duct groans. Catra freezes, ears going flat with fear that she had been heard. Nothing.

“–So no survivors.” 

Catra may have found the brief chilling when she was small. It might have filled her with more dread than the stark drop she is faced with now, as she peers down past an old, busted fan. Its blades are thick with dust, save for the small paw prints of the footholds she had used to get down _ last time _ she had slept late. But the brief doesn’t scare her. And neither does this. She’s not a child anymore, she thinks. She’s thirteen now, and she still has nine lives left.

She hopes.

The sound of the buzzer makes her ears ring this close to the speaker that it blares from. She winces, taking her cue, gulping hard and little heart pounding as she slips down the chute and past the fan. That’s easy. Her breathing quickens as she lingers on the grate beneath it crouched on all fours, tail flicking anxiously and claws scraping at the metal as she waits for her moment. The other cadets will be past her, soon, and the Force Captain overseeing the exercise will leave the chamber. That will be her chance. She hears the telltale pattering of combat boots, and braces herself, getting ready to hang from the fan like she has all these times before–

The grate gives. The grate gives  _ early _ .

The scrabbling of tiny claws on the edges of the chute are meaningless as she’s sent plummeting twenty feet to the ground below. Mismatched eyes are blown wide with horror, and she flips and thrashes gracelessly in the air, frantically trying to adjust herself so she’ll land on her side instead of her feet. It’s the only time she’s ever wanted to, she thinks, and the world is moving in slow motion, the walls of the training center whipping by too slow but too fast all at once. She’s going to break something. She’s going to shatter a bone, or several, and Shadow Weaver is going to have her beaten for her carelessness and–

_ “A-doraaaaa!” _

Catra screws shut her eyes in blind fear as the yowl slips past her lips, voice cracking with terror. Her claws dig into her own palms until something is stinging and wet, but the impact never comes. There is, instead, a split second later, a gruesome, muted popping sound as she is tackled from the waist, and she hears Adora cry out in pain, and then they are both falling. But not falling far. It can’t be more than five feet, and Catra opens her eyes as she and Adora crumple into a single heap. She is on her feet in seconds, and there’s no trace of the other cadets. Adora hasn’t budged– She’s trying to now, but Catra’s ears go flat as her friend yelps, her arm giving out under her.

“Adora?”

“I think I dislocated my shoulder.”

“Where are-”

“They’re up ahead. I knew you’d be coming and I wanted to scold you for being late again, but–” The words are panted, a bit pained, and Catra is concerned– But then Adora peers up at her with that shit-eating grin, and she hisses, helping Adora to her feet with an arm looped around her waist. They’re running out of time to catch up before someone notices something is wrong– Now is not the time for jokes.

“You know, Shadow Weaver is gonna kill you for getting hurt saving me. I think she’d like me better as a smear on the floor.” There’s some bitterness behind those words, but some sick amusement too, and as Adora finishes transferring the gear that matters off of her injured arm, she looks to Catra with a smile so soft it feels like a knife right through the other girl’s heart.

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t,” she says, and there is a heartbeat’s pause, the two simply staring at each other before Adora clears her throat. “We gotta go.”

The smile is gone. Catra huffs out a breath, setting off quick behind Adora.

“Yeah,” she mutters, face hot for a reason she can’t understand. “Whatever.”

 

* * *

 

“Does it hurt?”

It’s Adora’s turn to hiss as Catra gently prods her shoulder, a tender mess under her jacket. They’re back in the barracks, now, and Adora knows she doesn’t have long before Shadow Weaver will want to know what had gone wrong today. Her personal completion time was abysmal. The thought fills her with dread. “ _ Obviously _ it hurts, Catra,” she mutters anxiously, voice pitched, and scoots away from her friend’s prodding hand with a frown. “Can you just… Can you help me get this off? It’s hard with one hand.”

Adora plucks at her jacket. Catra understands, and sets to work.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” the fluffy cadet says at last, her ears flat against her head and trembling slightly with nerves. She won’t look up at Adora. “Shadow Weaver is gonna be pissed, and…”

Adora doesn’t hear the rest.

“Of course I had to do it. What was I supposed to do, just let you fall? I can’t just watch you get hurt, Catra, you- You have to be more responsible.” Her voice is getting more and more pitched with nerves, but she doesn’t sound angry. Just scared. As Catra peels back her jacket, both girls gasp, the magicat giving an audible gulp.

“It looks really bad,” she whispers at last, voice small, and sounds almost breathless as she sits back on Adora’s cot on all fours, tail thrashing nervously. “What if-”

“No, no, we can- We can fix it, I read about this.” Adora’s voice is cracking, but she takes a deep breath – She speaks with the self-assured voice of someone with no other choice. Her eyes drift from her shoulder to Catra, her toes curling and uncurling in her socks with nerves. Catra is watching her raptly, ears flat as she anxiously kneads the sheets between them, probably not even aware she’s doing it.

“What do you need me to do?” She asks with a little more confidence, claws pricking at the sheets. If Adora says they can do it, they can.

Adora bites her bottom lip. 

“You gotta pull it back into place. Come on, uh- I’ll show you how.”

Catra doesn’t want to hurt Adora. But there are worse things, like what could happen to her friend if she doesn’t. She takes a deep breath, putting on her bravest face and nodding. “Alright,” she says, crawling forward tentatively on all fours to close the distance between them, and glancing down to Adora’s criss crossed legs. Pursing her lips, there’s a moment’s pause before she places a hand on the other’s ankle, refusing to look at her. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” She says awkwardly, softly, so soft she thinks it might actually kill her this time. She still can’t look at Adora, and her face is hot, so hot. She’s glad she has fur.

“I know,” Adora replies, and with her good arm, lifts a hand to scratch behind the other girl’s ear. Catra’s whole head twists to meet the motion, and she squeaks, the sound dissolving into an embarrassing purr before she stifles it. Her claws dig into Adora’s ankle, not enough to hurt.

“Knock it off,” Catra mutters embarrassedly, and Adora laughs, the sound gentle and light.

“No.” 

Her chest is still warm from the sound of that purr. She can’t get the grin off her face, and she scoots a bit closer to Catra on her butt, the pain of her shoulder forgotten for a moment. 

“...Now come over here and lemme show you how to break my arm, or whatever.”

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of the shriek had brought Shadow Weaver running. Adora was tough, but she wasn’t  _ that _ tough – Catra had leapt up into her bunk from her spot on the floor beside her friend, curling up on herself and pretending to be asleep, but watching with one eye open. Adora said she’d fallen out of bed, and Shadow Weaver, so gentle and careful, had helped her to her feet and wiped her tears. She would send Adora to the infirmary tomorrow, she had said. For a checkup.

Catra wonders what both of those things would feel like. Her chest hurts, and she’s clueless to know if it’s the fall, or something else. She breathes out long and slow, tail twitching as she closes her eyes. She doesn’t need Shadow Weaver, so long as she has Adora. So long as they have each other. It’ll be okay.

“Hey. Catra. Are you awake?”

Adora’s voice is soft, so soft it soothes the ache, and Catra opens an eye once more, lifting a brow at the two eyes peering at her over the edge of her bunk. That’s confirmation enough. As her friend scrabbles up into the top bunk with her, Catra grins stupidly. Adora may have saved her today, but she is so, so graceless.

_ How does it feel to be the world’s slowest person? _

“Thanks for that. I don’t think Shadow Weaver knew. I think we’re okay.”

That’s all Catra needs to hear. A quiet grunt of acknowledgement as Adora sits down in front of her, the crown of her head brushing the ceiling, and all Catra can picture is her lanky, out of balance body toppling right back over the edge backwards from whence she came. 

Catra snatches at her protectively with a sound not unlike that of a troubled cat, drawing her close. Adora squeaks softly, but knows better than to make any real noise. There is a momentary pause that feels like a decade as they sit, face to face, before Catra lets Adora lay down, releasing her grip.

“Whatever,” She whispers, and there’s a heartbeat before she tentatively drapes herself over Adora’s chest, curling onto her and resting her chin in the nook of the other’s shoulder. Someday she’ll have to talk to someone about these localized flash fevers that burn her ears and her cheeks, but now isn’t the time. “Just don’t do that again.”

Adora scoffs, rolling her eyes and hesitating before carefully running her fingers through Catra’s hair. “What– Save you from falling and breaking every bone in your dumb furry body? Or make you save me from Shadow Weaver?”

Catra’s tail flicks, and she offers a rare, soft purr in response after a moment as she closes her eyes.

That is all the answer Adora needs. They’ll do this again.

As many times as it takes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is crossposted to tumblr [here!](https://lesbianmagicat.tumblr.com/post/184630810119/back-at-the-horde-before-adora-left-adora) I'm currently accepting requests but at a very lazy pace. I had a lot of fun with this one! Not every request will get a fic this long, but I'm doin' my best. As always, if you like my work and you have the spare change, feel free to drop me a tip on my ko-fi. It's by no means necessary but IS appreciated, and all tips go right to helping fund visits to my girlfriend!


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